First Encounters
by Shelby Chace
Summary: The first time i'm uploading one of my works here :  hope peeps enjoy and Assassin's creed with characters belong to Ubisoft! haha    This is when Altair and maria first meet but with a twist!


The radiating sun was at its peak high in the azure skies as the Assassin swiftly made his way toward the cathedral graveyard, adrenaline pumping. At the entrance to the location, the cemetery gates stood soaring with iron bars and spikes at the tops. A large cluster of Jerusalem citizens stood before several Templar knights against the far stone wall of the church. Altair detected two archers standing elevated above the crowd and its preacher with bows in hand. He pulled at the pointed peak of his hood, nearest his face, and became one with the mass.

"We gather here to mourn the loss of our beloved Majd Addin, taken too soon from this world." The holy man was explaining, standing before the freshly stirred dirt and headstone as Altair recognized the Templar leader. He was dressed in gray robes and cape with chainmail and dark armor at his arms and legs with a silver helmet concealing his face, a sword at his side and the crimson Templar symbol painted across his chest. Altair glared and took in another deep breath, standing just far enough to distinguish this leader from his men.

The preacher continued. "I know you feel sorrow and pain at his passing, but you should not. For just as we are all brought forth from the womb, so too must we all one day pass from this world. It is only natural like the rising and setting of the sun. Take this moment to reflect his life and give thanks for all the good he did. Know that one day you will stand with him again in paradise." He explained and bowed his head and crossed his fingers as all the others mimicked him.

The Assassin inched closer, observing this horrid enemy suddenly as Robert turned his head and stared directly at the killer. Altair stopped dead in his slow tracts as the moment of silence ended, his heart rising into his throat. "Amen." They all said at once as Robert took a step closer to the preacher and whispered something in his ear. The man's grieving face turned suddenly into a loathing expression.

"As you know," he continued as Robert raised a hand and gave silent orders to his men. "This man was murdered. We have tried to track his killer, but it has proved difficult." As he spoke, several Templar knights spread out before the crowd, changing their stances. "These creatures cling to the shadows and run from any who would face him fairly." He raised his voice as Altair changed into a defensive stance as well, his heart pounding. "But not today! For it seems one stands among us! He mocks us with his presence and must be made to pay!" He pointed directly at Altair with a discriminating finger as the civilians turned and stared at him, backing away slowly with horrified expressions. "Seize him! Bring him forward that God's justice might be done!" He bellowed as the citizens darted away screaming.

Altair spread his legs and took a small throwing knife in each hand, from the holster at his ribs. _Alright, come get me._ He beckoned with confident body language as the knights began to rush toward him, swords unsheathed. He swiftly threw both blades simultaneously at the archers hitting them devastatingly with deadly accuracy without even glancing at them. The guards halted for a moment baffled as the two men fell dead at their posts.

"You fools! KILL HIM!" Robert cried, but Altair noticed his voice was much higher in tone than he remembered, he nearly sounded like a young boy.

The knights reacted and attacked the death dealer ferociously as the forceful clanking of metal and bellows of men shattered the peace of the once quiet cemetery. Altair unsheathed his short blade and countered an attack with a slice to the abdomen. About seven guards surrounded him, their leader flinging his sword about and barking orders.

He sliced a trachea of one man as another slashed at him, but met his end with a blade to the skull. Robert seemed to stand there motionless for a moment, perhaps bewildered; his knights where being slaughtered with such skill. They closed in on the Assassin as the clanking and ringing of metal and hollers of men rose to a full momentum. Dust was thrown up into the air and blood was sprayed out upon the holy ground. The Assassin fought nearly like a god as he ended the life of Robert's last knight quickly as the body hit the ground with a sickening thump.

He began to circle Robert with teeth bared, twisting his dagger about in his right hand, stepping over corpses at his feet. Robert thrust his blade at the Assassin as the metal clanked together. The Assassin attempted to lurch around these blows, accompanied by high-pitched cries, but Robert suddenly did a little counter of his own. He raised his leg and kicked the Assassin in the side of the head in a sort of twisting motion. Altair stumbled back and hunched over then spit out blood.

"What the fuck!" He announced. How the hell could the man lift his leg up that high? He wondered as a jolt of rage rushed through him. Altair clanked his blade roughly against the man's as he fell upon his back, the sword lost from his grasp. Robert rolled over and swiftly captured his weapon once again and attempted to kick the Assassin in the side of the head yet again, but Altair caught the enemy's leg and flung him to the ground once more. The bastard was relentless. He stood again to attack, but Altair countered this strike and sliced the man's thigh as he screeched and stumbled back. Now he had him at a disadvantage and kicked the pommel of his sword and as it was released immediately he flexed his hand, the hidden dagger springing to life, and leapt atop the enemy, the blade at his throat. Now he truly saw how short this enemy was and not just short, but tiny as well. In fact, he hardly had the physic of a man at all, from what he remembered of Robert.

Altair straddled him at the waist and bent over so his face was near the helmet. He could hear Robert breathing heavily through the metal. He wriggled beneath him as Altair pressed the blade against his throat just enough for a menacing pressure, a thin line of blood appearing. The crimson liquid from the Templar's wound dampened his inner thigh as he forced the rather small man down with his body.

"I would see your eyes before you die!" he spat and took hold of the helmet and tore it off. With a groan of hatred, the enemy's face was revealed, but it was not the one he longed to see. Long golden-blonde hair feathered out upon the ground as the face stared up at him with blazing eyes as blue as the Mediterranean itself. Pale flawless skin, reddened cheeks and striking features of a _woman_ met his glare.

His mouth dropped open, he was utterly astounded as his face lost all the expression of rage. "Let me go!" she bellowed and struggled against him. "GET OFF OF ME!" she cried and suddenly got her right leg loose from under him and jammed it up into him. Her blow hit his crotch just as she had hoped as he howled and fell off her. She sprang to her feet and grasped her blade off the ground, spinning about to face him. The Assassin lay there on his knees for a moment longer, holding himself. _Bitch! _

The Templar Highness grinned down at him arrogantly and raised her blade to lop off his head.

"Let all know that _I _was the one who murdered _you_, demon." She spat beginning to swing the blade, however in this instant he sprung to his feet and leapt at her with a growl, disproving her low expectations of him in a single movement. He thrust her up against the wall of the cathedral and took hold of her upper neck with his thumb and forefinger clutching her pretty face. He raised his left arm, the blade sliding out with a horrible metallic ring as she widened her large eyes and dropped her weapon.

He contorted his face with such wrath. "I sense you have expected someone else." She mocked through gasps for air as she clutched his wrist with a petite hand.

"WHAT SORCERY IS THIS?" He demanded shaking her.

"Not sorcery, skill. We knew you'd come. Did you really think Robert himself would actually come when he knew you would be here? Stupid Assassin!" She snapped.

"WHERE IS HE, YOU LITTLE BITCH?" The Assassin growled, bringing his hidden blade nearer to her flesh.

"Far from here, you fool! We are not so stupid!" She retorted, still breathing heavily, her British accent flaring.

Altair glared down at her for a moment then swallowed and ran his tongue over his teeth. "You are coming with me."

"I am not! I'd rather die!" She exclaimed tightening her grasp on his wrist.

He snickered. "Don't say that, everyone who says that dies." He released her neck slightly.

"Kill me then. I'm not afraid of you!" She snapped, as he truly remembered her now, that Templar woman from Acre, a Highness.

He thought for a moment. "No." he replied almost gently. "I will not take your life."

She furrowed her brow. "Why not? That is what I'm here for." She snapped and dug her nails into his forearm, struggling against him. "Are you so spineless that you would not end the life of a woman, coward?"

He eyed her up and down, switching into his sixth sense. She widened her eyes again, as what she saw then shook her at the core. For a rapid second his eyes changed! She watched the bizarre episode as his pupils expanded largely, almost as if at will, as the deep bronze coloration of his eyes morphed in to a vibrant golden, nearly flame-like, shade then as quickly as it occurred he merely blinked and the deep bronze with slashes of sheer gold returned. "You're worth much."

Her face really contorted with repulsion and rage. "I will help you with nothing! I will never turn my back on my people, pig!" She screamed and began to fight against him, but he swiftly pressed his right palm against her forehead and jammed the back of her head against the wall. She was silenced immediately and merely stared at him for an instant with a look of sheer bewilderment as her mouth dropped open. Her eyes rolled back in her head as she fell limp in his grasp. He caught her then examined her for a second, clutching her appealing face with a hand.

"Apologies, Highness." He said sarcastically, flung her over his shoulder, and began the venture back to the bureau as faint hollers of Templar guards echoed in the distance.

She struggled to open her eyes in the sheer darkness as her head throbbed horridly. She attempted to sit up, but could not. She yanked her left wrist, but only heard the clanking of chain she was constricted with. The woman began to panic; she could hardly see a thing in the strange room, lying upon this couch of some sort as the feeling of fearful hopelessness overwhelmed her. She moaned and lay still listening to two men argue in another room.

"Robert de Sablé was never fucking here! And he sent _her _in his stead!" Altair roared, pacing about in the bureau. "He was fucking expecting me!"

Malik stood behind the counter half amused and half enraged, of course, far not as much as the lunatic stomping about in the main building. "Of course he was expecting you… you really don't carry your duty well."

Altair glared at him with an extreme amount of ferocity. He roared and forced all the pottery and objects off the small table with a swipe of his arm. He then stomped over toward the rafik as if he was going to murder him with a finger pointed. "WHO ARE YOU TO TELL ME HOW TO SLAY THESE MEN?" He shouted and began to pace again.

"This is your fault not mine!" Malik growled, "_You_ always had a tendency to fuck things up!" He retorted, implying past events.

Altair ran a hand through his hair roughly then shouted at the top of his lungs again. "YOU CAN DAMN ME TO HELL!" He was almost out, almost free of everything. He was nearly there and done with this errand of a mission, sent out like a beaten dog, and now the events had turned for the worst.

Malik furrowed his brow and wrinkled his nose. "Get out!" He shouted and threw the novel upon the ground. "GET OUT!"

Altair spun on his heels and sent a few more objects flying to the floor before he exited the main portion of the bureau. The Templar woman laid there silently for a moment longer as a man came around the corner halted near the latter then pressed his back up against the wall. She had heard every word as silence now cooled the tension in the air. She watched him, knowing he thought she was still unconscious, as he raised a hand and covered the upper potion of his face, which she could hardly see in the dim candlelight. She heard a door slam shut from the other room as this man then slid down against the wall and put his head in his hands.

She wondered what he was doing, but he lifted his head up and gazed out the open awning draped with ivy, the crescent moon casting a slight pale light upon his face. He was wearing a tight black, v-neck shirt, which was loose at the sleeves and pants with leather-armored boots, she noticed as she accidentally made a soft noise on the sofa. He glaze flickered over at her suddenly, his trained ears perking with the slight shuffle, then stood and strode over toward her. She leaned into the cushions fearing for her life as he observed her for a moment then noticed the blood still dripping from her thigh. He furrowed his brow in the fiery dimness then departed into the other portion of the building. She watched him disappear into the other room and could not stop herself from glancing at his attractive rear.

A few moments later, he came back with medical supplies and a bottle of wine. He knelt on the floor near her and placed his hands on her wound, tarring at the cloth. A jolt of agony rushed up her leg as she screamed.

"_Ow_! Get away from me!" She demanded and swatted at him with her free hand. He said nothing at first and placed a wet cloth on her thigh. "I said get away!" She cried and managed to hit him in the face as a small line of blood appeared on his cheek.

He threw the cloth at her spitefully and she threw it right back at him. He cast it down near the supplies and touched the side of his face, examining the crimson liquid on his fingertips. Her heart quickened in pace. He gazed back to her, lying there defenselessly on that couch, as she pushed herself farther away from him with fear dancing in her large blue eyes. He suddenly grasped her left hand and turned it so her palm was facing up, so that diamond on her ring finger was visible.

He snickered to himself and stood. "You have no need to fear me, girl." He replied then said harsher, "You're the only Templar hear me say that." Subsequently, he untied a key from his hip and unchained her arm. She sat up and rubbed her wrist then forced herself farther away from him.

"You killed all those men." She nearly whispered. She felt extremely woozy as he popped open the bottle of alcohol.

"I've killed many men." He replied and took a gulp of the liquid.

"My men … Are you nothing but a killer?" She demanded then took the cloth finally and blotted her aching wound.

He snickered again and placed the alcohol on the stone ground then leaned against the wall. He crisscrossed his well-built arms, muscles exposed through the ebony fabric and crossed his legs at the ankles. "God, I hope not…" He said as if just to himself.

She could make out his entire face now in the gentle light and she was bewildered to observe how incredibly handsome he was, in her haze; he was beautiful. "I've known men like you my whole life." She snapped, the very piece of his facial features striking her at the core as if he was staring directly into her soul; she had never seen such eyes, bronze oceans teeming with golden waves tracing every fierce detail.

He glanced at her through the corner of his eye and ran his tongue over his top teeth. "No, you haven't." He replied, much calmer now. His heart was hammering against his ribs even though and he had no idea of the cause.

"You think you're so different from a thousand others?" She asked irately. "What makes you so special?" and gazed at him, as her vision began to blur more so.

He said nothing for a while and grasped the wine again, hungrily as he began to make her feel uneasy, just standing there, an Assassin, and the very creature she had been taught never to trust for they are demons. "What is your name, girl?" She glanced up at him and hated him. He strode toward her, his low raspy voice penetrating her core. "Did you not hear me?" he asked again, even though he already knew her name.

"Maria Thorpe." She replied and tore her eyes from him.

"Are you frightened, Maria?" The Assassin asked and ran a hand through his chocolate-brown hair.

She gazed up at him; her pretty features angelically alight in the undersized foyer. "Should I be?" She asked sarcastically and brushed a strand of golden hair behind her ear. She pressed her lips together and as she did this, his sex throbbed for a moment. He swore to himself. _Fuck. _

"I don't know." He replied with a slight side grin, glancing down into the bottle of liquor, attempting to keep is eyes off the most gorgeous woman he had ever seen.

Maria glared at him. "Do you enjoy provoking me?" She retorted in a whisper.

Altair cocked an eyebrow then narrowed his dark eyes. Maria began to feel faint as her breathing increased in momentum. He gazed at her then raised his brow and knelt down beside the settee once again.

"Get away from me." She moaned as he lifted the cloth from her injury, which he had caused. "Go away!" She spat and swatted at him.

He caught her wrist and gazed straight into her eyes. "I will help you." He said as she finally noticed the slight roll of his tongue, which was a minor accent.

"I don't want your help, Assassin!" She snapped as his face became stern.

"Do you want to bleed to death? Is that what you want?" He demanded, squeezing her wrist.

She gazed at him daftly. "No…"

"Then shut your mouth and let me help." He said and immediately tore open her pants where the bleeding wound was located as she moaned. She reacted to his hands touching her inner thigh, however, and he felt her body react to them.

She slipped into a state of shock as he stitched her up. "Why would you help me, Assassin?" Maria asked lightly.

Altair glanced up at her again and thought her constant speech was annoying even though when he met her stare his stomach twisted. _God… _He thought this reaction was odd. "I cannot let you die here, Highness. Let us call it respect."

She licked her pink plump lips. "I thought you were a dumb brute…" She mumbled as this captured his attention. "Could have forgiven a dumb brute…" The Templar woman explained, as he said nothing. After a few moments flew by, she passed out yet again.


End file.
